


New Beginnings for the Magicians

by Dvsharpie



Series: The Chronicles of El [6]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, One Shot, POV First Person, Pre-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 22:32:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17876084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dvsharpie/pseuds/Dvsharpie
Summary: Asra and the Apprentice, who just met, arrive together in Vesuvia. They begin thinking about a life together.





	New Beginnings for the Magicians

**Author's Note:**

> No prior readings are needed for this work.

It was noon on a cloudy, winter day. Despite the cold, the cobbled streets of lustrous Vesuvia were filled with people. Chatter and laughter filled the air, mingling with the creaking wheels of hundreds of carts. Guards watched the rushing crowd from beneath outpost canopies, ever observant.

The heart district was especially busy, being at the crossroads of the entire city. There was a man playing a flute on the corner, the open case asking quietly for coin to spare. The sweet music soared over the thrum of all the people; a melody to the city’s beat.

Asra and I approached the old shop. It was decaying alone in an otherwise thriving city. The wooden sign hung lopsided, faded from the sunlight. I walked through the broken door frame, coughed at the dusty air. It was dark, and smelled of mold. The floorboards creaked under my heavy boots.

Asra entered behind me. He was a slim and a little short, giving him a permanent boyish quality. His skin was a beautiful bronze, and his eyes were large and bright. We’d met only a few weeks ago on the the road, our paths just happening to cross. 

He approached the broken front window, and looked outside. “It’s such a small world, isn’t it? I was telling fortunes behind this place just last month.”

I examined the front counter. The display case was still intact, but full of empty bottles and cobwebs. “It feels like fate,” I replied. “I almost forgot that I owned it, then I ran into you, a magician from Vesuvia.”

Asra smiled at me. His face was so kind, I almost told him the truth about why I’d been avoiding the shop since it came into my possession. The Count of Vesuvia was on old lover of mine, and I’d left things unresolved. There was no reason for Asra to know about that.

“How’d you come to own it, again?”

“My great aunt left it to me,” I told him. “Probably because I was the only living relative.” I hadn’t seen my aunt in decades. I didn’t even know she owned a magic shop.

“You were?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Everyone else died when I was really young.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

I shrugged, examining a mandela carved into the counter. In the back of my mind, I could still see the fire. “It is what it is.”

“I lost my family, too,” he said. 

I looked up. The boy had such dreamy eyes, and now they watered a little. A pale snake, his familiar, appeared from inside his shirt and brushed against his cheek, as if comforting him. “Do you want to tell me about it?” I asked.

“They were taken prisoner by the count,” Asra said as the snake wound around his arms. “After that, I’m not sure what happened. It’s like they just disappeared.”

He definitely didn’t need to know about my past with the count. “I’m sorry,” I told him.

“He’s a terrible person,” Asra said, his jaw clenching in anger. “But the city still loves him.”

I could understand why; Vesuvia was blossoming. It was smaller the last time I was here; a modest port with a few bars and more than its fair share of troubles. The Count had always had grand visions.

Asra wasn’t looking at me, but he was close enough to touch. I resisted the urge to reach out and pet his hair. It was as fluffy and white as a cloud on a perfect day. I only wandered the room quietly, making a mental list of what needed to be done. Firstly, the shop needed a door with a reliable lock. 

“It’ll take a long time to fix this place up,” he said.

“It will.”

“You’re going to do it all by yourself?”

“That’s the only way.” I leaned my staff against the wall, and shed my heavy cloak. The cool air felt good on my exposed skin. Vesuvian winter felt like springtime to me. It was nothing compared to the harsh seasons of my homeland. 

When I looked at Asra again, his eyes flickered away quickly. He’d probably noticed the siegels that covered my arms. I’d caught him looking at the scar across my eyebrow in the same way.

“You can ask me about them,” I told him.

He raised one brow, skeptical. “You don’t mind?”

“If I don’t feel like telling you something, I’ll say so.”

“You just seem so reserved.”

“You mean scary?”

“Maybe a little, but mostly reserved.”

I shrugged again and went into the back room. The table and chairs were all accounted for, though one was smashed. Asra followed behind me.

“This was where she told fortunes,” he explained. 

I put my weight on the table. It wobbled a little, but held firm. “There’s no way they were real fortunes. She didn’t have any talent for it.”

Asra snickered. “So that’s why she always chased me off. Where’d you get it from, then?”

“Both parents,” I replied, noting the broken lantern chain hanging from the ceiling. “My dad was like you, good with the Arcana and mysticism. Mama was really good with fire.”

“So you take after her?”

“Kinda of. I’m good with fire like her, but strong like my dad. She used to do all these little light tricks.” I held my hands open, letting just a little power slip out. White flames spun in my palms, rippling like a flower in the wind.

“Beautiful,” Asra said as I tossed the flower in the air. It shimmered briefly, then fell apart. 

“What about yours?”

Asra leaned against the wall, looking pensive. “They didn’t care about money or material things. They were really kind people. They’d help others, like you do.”

I smiled at him. He went on. “He liked to build things, and draw. Mom would write spells. She gave me my ability to read auras. They both had a strong connection to the cards.”

“The Arcana mean a lot to you.”

“They do. They connect me to my parents.”

I twisted the garnet around my neck, and thought of the people from my past. It was years ago, and I was still guilt ridden, but Asra had helped me remember them fondly. 

“Do you live nearby?”

“I wander a lot, honestly. Sometimes I stay with my friend on the edge of town.”

“So you don’t have a place to go?”

He beamed, showing off his dimples, and threw open his arms. “I have everywhere to go. Me and Faust.” The snake stuck her tongue out at me.

“Well, I could really use some help fixing this place up,” I said. “And I can’t use a tarot deck, so I need a fortune teller.”

“What? Why can’t you use a deck?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I dismissed. “Point being, you could stay here, if you wanted.”

His eyes were wide with surprise. I realized how impulsive it was, asking someone you’d just met to live with you. Oh well. It was out now, no taking it back.

His white brows knit together. He was touched. “You mean that?”

“Yeah,” I replied, trying to hide how flustered I felt. “I feel like I can trust you.”

He stepped closer, and to my shock, kissed my cheek. I felt my face heat up as I touched the spot where he kissed me. I didn’t know why he thought to do that, or how he knew I would like it. Perhaps it could be seen in my aura.

“El, I’d be honored,” he said, wearing that gentle smile. I was utterly charmed at the new nickname.

“I can call you that, right?” He asked.

I nodded. 

“Great, it suits you.”

I had lost my train of thought. “Well, um..”” I began, then trailed off. I had to regain some composure, somehow.

“I’m going to look at the loft.”

“Right, the loft.”

While he went upstairs, I was still touching my cheek. It had been ages since the last time I’d been kissed. I was more likely to get a nervous glance, or the rare, stammered introduction. The floorboards creaked as Asra examined the loft.

“Well, you still have a bedframe, but it needs a mattress,” he shouted.

“It’s something,” I replied.

His footsteps were light as he came back down. “It’ll be expensive.”

I snorted. “Don’t worry about that. I can afford one mattress.”

“Just one?” He was leaning over the stair rail, perched on the second step. He had a half smile, and his eyes were soft.

I was bold again. “Do we need more than one?”

His grin grew wider. “I guess not. Are you hungry?”

“Always.”

He came the rest of the way down the stairs, and offered his hand. “I know a great baker.”

I considered his hand for a moment. It was a little too big for him, with a wide palm. I knew where things would go if I accepted. Certainly, fate had brought us together, but I didn’t know if it would end well. I didn’t know if I deserved it. 

Perhaps some of the most meaningful connections in life weren’t the ones that would last the longest. Perhaps life was more about enjoying the moments as they come, than reaching a certain destination.

I gingerly placed my hand in his and his warm fingers closed perfectly, like they were made to fit with mine. His touch felt so natural that I knew it was the right choice.

**Author's Note:**

> Love it? Share the love! If you want more of Asra and El, please explore my other works.


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